Memoirs of L
by A.D. Williams
Summary: I am writing this memoir about the super-natural events of the Kira investigation in hopes that one day they may prove useful in-lieu of another similar situation...DON'T change them! Yes, I'm talking about you, Near! I know how you really feel about me!


Hello, hello! Ah, yet another DN one shot by me. But I'm not putting this with my other collection. I think this should be a story on its own. Anyways, I might want to warn you that L is completely out of character. I mean, wash away any memories you had of the old L before you read this because with this being a comedy, I didn't want L to be his normal, overly-logical self. So, if you think you can handle the goofiness, then proceed. I've given you your warning! Oh, and the mention of Near really plays no part in this…sorry…but I really don't think Near liked L, or so I've read somewhere, I think. Also, while writing this, it took me quite a bit (more than one day) to finish, due to interruptions and such. So, if the mood kinda swings back and forth, forgive me. I tried to stay constant in the humor, but even I sometimes have muse issues.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Death Note characters…they were all sold out before I could get to the store.

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Memoirs of L

You know, if I'd known that I was going to die at 25, there probably wouldn't have been a world renowned detective named L. I mean, I never even went on a single date. Not one. While all the other teens at Wammy's House were mixing it up, licking and banging, I was planted in front of a computer and voice modifier, solving some case all the way in Sweden or something. And I don't even speak Swedish!

At the time I got the call to come to Japan to help on the Kira investigation, I was wrapping up that famous case in L.A. Some of you might've heard about it, you know, the psychotic guy that ran around looking like me, but with a love for blood and strawberry jam? Pfft, like I was ever going to let _him _succeed me! Yeah, he was a Wammy's kid too. He got a little pissy because he knew that he was never going to fill my shoes (figuratively…I hate wearing shoes) and decided to go on a bitch fit and kill people in some twisted way of luring me out. Then, get this. _He sets himself on fire! _Seriously! He figured that by him killing himself, that would mean that I couldn't solve the case, even if I'd already figured out that he was behind the murders. Beyond Birthday…known as B to everyone back in Winchester. B for brainless if you ask me.

But this is all beside the point.

So anyways, I go to Japan. Lovely little country, you should go there if you get the chance. Home to strawberry pocky.

After over half of the police force clears out, I'm left with six guys to work with. Mass murderer on the loose, six guys to work with. Wow…way to go Japan. Then they dare to ask the unthinkable. They want to see me! Sure, fine. I didn't choose to be a recluse, it's just that my line of profession made me being one a bit crucial to survival.

Starting first in introductions was Soichiro Yagami. A decent man, the one person that I really didn't mind working beside. He's the one that fully understood what we were going up against. But not to insult his intelligence, considering that he knew we were dealing with a force of some kind that could kill if they knew your name, it nags at me as to why the hell he told me his after knowing me for less than two minutes. But besides that, the man checks out with an A-plus in my book.

None of the others were anything special, so I'm not even going to waste my time writing anything about all of them. Except…Matsuda. Truth is, Matsuda was my favorite person…when it came down to entertainment! Well, the exchanges between Light and Misa were a close second actually. But I have to applaud him on something. The guy has guts. Yes, his love for gossip like a girl could irk just about anyone, but he was brave where it counted, even if his bravery resulted in doing something stupid. I guess I'll give Matsu a C-minus.

Mm, maybe I was a bit harsh in saying the others were nothing special…okay, Aizawa grinded my nerves a few times, but in the end, I'll give him a B for his contribution to the case. Now all the others were serious average Joes.

Let's skip ahead, shall we? So there are the detectives. No telling how trustworthy all of them are, so I decided to plant surveillance in Soichiro's house and his boss' house. Why them, you might ask? I wanted to know if they had hot wives. I was sorely disappointed.

Ah, the greatest part about that was watching Light Yagami. No, none of that yaoi stuff those damn Japanese school girls were so fixated on during my brief stint in university. It's just that…Light seemed so perfect! Laid his school uniform out for the morning, set up his bed after waking up, brushed his teeth with extreme care, things like that. But ah! He had a dirty little secret! He read porn!

But my gods! I've seen pre-pubescents more interested in things like that than the boring staring he was doing at the book. I mean, there's a half naked woman on the page (hey, I'm a man too…I can't act like I'm above human nature). And all he can do is flip through the pages idly? That's when I came to two conclusions. One, Yagami, you are indeed a gay. And two, he was Kira. No sane and straight man could look at such images and not feel a thing other than a heartless killer.

Continuing on, I decided that I'd meet the young Yagami myself. First, there was the day in the exam room for To-Oh University. He kept glancing back at me…he was totally checking me out. That's the only explanation I can come up with for why he kept staring at me…or was it because I kept staring at him? Neh! It was definitely all him.

Speeding things up some more, I finally introduce myself to him. I was so cool and smooth with it, I think I deserved an award for that performance! Written and directed by Michael Bay! I mean, it doesn't get anymore awesome than "I want to tell you, _I'm L._" That's just epic! Intense staring followed by me giving out my real name? C'mon, find someone who can top that performance! Wait, Light did so immediately afterwards. By remaining his calm demeanor when we all know he wanted to choke my neck right there in the auditorium. Okay, kudos to him on his self control. The Golden Globe goes to Light Yagami.

More time passes and I invite him to a tennis match. Now, most people would look at me and think, "That albino string-bean doesn't play tennis!" Well, I do people, thank you very much. And I'm quite good at it too. I mean, I was totally in the zone while I was playing against Light. I knew every move he was going to make…three seconds after he'd already made them. Okay, so he beat me, six games to four…no biggie, right? Right?! I went home and cried later that evening.

So, eventually I get to the point where I've all but found hard evidence against both Light and Misa for being the Kiras. I let Watari have free reign when coming up with Misa's imprisonment method, but figured that I'd go basic for Light. Black sweat outfit that fit him just right, hands cuffed behind his back, him lying helplessly on the jail floor, shirt riding up to reveal just the barest of skin …I'm sorry, I forgot what point I was trying to make. Where were we again? Eh, no matter.

Things seemed to be going just great, excluding that Soichiro Yagami also wanted to be locked up, leaving me with Dumb (Matsuda) and Dumber (more of Matsuda). Misa seemed to be cracking and Light…well, Light out of nowhere changed his tune. I'll never forget the day he looked up at me in that cell with those big brown eyes, proclaiming his innocence …he looked so much like a deer that I couldn't help but imagine a car speeding towards him on a back highway somewhere and all you see is the car's headlights reflected on his face before everything goes dark.

But I digress.

Alright, so Soichiro and I come up with a plan to fool the two "lovebirds" into thinking he's going to kill them. Nobody dies and thus Misa is brought to the new headquarters I built (all for me to die like five months later!), and Light and I are handcuffed together. And let me tell you, if I'd had known he snored as loudly as he did, I'd have never come up with that idea. He never sounded that loud during surveillance.

Ah, and of course, how can I forget our first fight? Light finds hitting people a way to make them motivated again. Too bad having gut feelings about others doesn't hold up in court or his ass would've been behind bars long ago. And there wouldn't have been any form-fitting sweat suits either! Anyways, so he punches me. And the first thing that crossed my mind was, "This bastard actually hit me!!" Well, I've never been one to just turn the other cheek. Let's face it, I'm not exactly a goody-two shoes person. I'll lie. I'll cheat. I'll steal. Whatever it takes to get the case solved.

So when Light struck me, I wasn't about to lie down and take that. Hell no! I gave him a good kick back, capoeira style. Which, by the way, I did not learn from Naomi Misora, but rather a fighting game called Tekken. He fell over onto the couch, unfortunately dragging me with him. When I sat back up on the fallen furniture to address him for his actions, I think that was probably the maddest I'd ever been. What's even more unfortunate is that later, during one of Matsuda's famous babbling rants, he slipped in that I looked "totally hot" at that moment, going on about how I looked like I wanted to pounce Light. I was scarred for the rest of my life.

Moving on, eventually Light stumbles upon the Yotsuba killings. How the hell he found this information is a bit awkward and why was it that an eighteen year-old teenager was the first to recognize their killing pattern is even stranger. Still, I was proud of his findings. Had he been my son, I would've given him a congratulatory punch on the arm…and then another…and another…I don't know if I've ever said this, but I really hate to lose or be surpassed by anyone…which is just why I'm the first, second and third best detectives in the world. Yeah, I'm a bit paranoid that someone's going to better me.

Well, then Misa decides to go out with this guy that wears Gucci. Oh, no, wait. His name was Higuchi. Yes, that was it. She gathers some info about him being Kira and thus, finally, we have some true action in this case! After Matsuda's big screw-up, we aired the television special on Sakura TV (just as lame as the character in Naruto) about him revealing who the real Kira was. Of course I knew that the master-mind behind everything was chained to me at that moment, but hey, this guy was a scum bag also. If you're going to cut the grass, you need to get the weeds too.

So, we then pursue the guy by helicopter as he races to Sakura TV to stop Matsuda (who by this time has been replaced with a dummy. Wait, if that's the case, he could've stayed there!). He slipped past the planted guards and made a break for it again. There's this really cool motorcycle cop accident. Let's hear it again for Michael Bay, people!

We corner the guy and finally, he gives up. Watari was all suited up with his precious sniper rifle in tow. Poor man, he hasn't had a chance to do any shooting since his days in Vietnam. And why was a British guy in Vietnam, you might ask? That's a long story that I don't have time for right now.

Anyways, since it had been some time since Watari had done any sniping, his aim was a bit off…okay, it was _way _off. He hit the guy's tire rather than he himself. Watari claims that the scope on the gun is totally wrong, but the rest of us know that he just had a senior moment. It's nothing to be ashamed of, Watari! I've known you since I was eight, and you were old back then!

Er, let me move on. So, Higuchi is pulled from the vehicle and apprehended. Then he goes on about a notebook. A notebook that allows a person to kill someone when their name is written down in it. Further more, when a person touches this notebook, they're able to see a shinigami, or dog of death…that's right, I said _dog _of death! A Grim, as all you Harry Potter lovers might call it. Okay, let me not twist these records. It's called a god of death. But they're as ugly as mongrel dogs, so I don't see the difference.

The notebook is brought to me in the helicopter, where I've decided to stay and have a cup of Brazil's finest brew, beans hand picked by some little nine year-old who should've been in school instead. But I'm not a huge activist about that stuff…I have enough on my plate and I'll be damned if I miss out on my precious caffeine because little Eduardo or whatever had to do some hard labor.

As I gently take the notebook in my fingers (holding it by the corners…who knows how many filthy hands had touched it?!), I looked up to notice that now I too could see the white monstrosity in front of all the other officers. Many weeks before this, I had nearly had a heart attack (ha-ha. Hilarious) at the idea of shinigami existing because it would piece together everything. And now, in live action and HD, there was one not even twenty yards away.

My biggest failure though, was letting Light, still a main suspect in my mind, touch the notebook. Why, oh why did I give it to him? I mean, no, I didn't see him write anything down in it, but when that book touched his hands, something weird transpired. Perhaps he didn't write anything in the Death Note, but he _did _write something down…of that, I'm almost sure of. Why else did Higuchi suddenly croak over? Nothing more than a pawn in Light's game.

And thus we're near the end. My end. On the morning of my death, I had surprisingly slept. Yeah, I don't sleep everyday like most people. At the time, I was balancing a case in China, a case in Norway, _five _cases in the U.S. (damn, America! What the hell is wrong with your FBI agents?!) , another one back in Britain, and one more in Australia. I bet with so much on my plate, you're wondering why I didn't drop some, huh? I do refuse cases at times, true. But not often. For every case I look away from, that's another possible murder, another life lost…losing my own family was enough. I don't ever want to be responsible of making someone else go through that.

Wait just a sec! Did I just get touchy?! Damnit! It must be all these stupid, fluffy clouds and…who the hell is playing that harp?! You there! Yes you, sitting over there on that stool, the huge golden harp in front of you. Do you mind? (music stops as an angry angel stomps off, instrument in tow.) Thank you!

Yeah, the big wigs let me in due to how many lives I saved. I mean, security here is tight! They have, like, these secret agent type angels, they have dark robes and wings and wear sunglasses and have impassive features. If you decide to take a little spin down to earth to visit someone, you better make sure you bring your ID with you when you come back, or else…you're sent back to the heaven version of the DMV, you know, where you get your ID and stuff at. And the line is looooooong! I've been dead for over two years and I'm just now getting mine! In worse case scenarios, they won't even bother trying to get you another ID. They simply just ship you off to purgatory…supposedly, the boringness of the place is supposed to teach you about responsibility or something. Yes, you can come back; they're not going to be so cruel as to leave you in the nothingness.

So, about the day I died…I had just woken up from a horrendous dream about being back at Wammy's House. I had these weird flashbacks about all the little whiners there (the newbie's who had either just lost their family or still hadn't come to terms with it after months of being there.). The few kids in my age group kept wanting me to color with them or something…and I would've loved to, but already I had been thrown into the detective field and thus, I had no time to color in Spongebob and Patrick…wait…that wasn't out when I was a kid. Eh, whatever. It was a coloring book.

I made a quick visit to Watari to tell him that I was pretty sure that I or both of us were about to kick the bucket. Sad, I knew that he would share the same fate as me, but we'd been over this quite a few times, a situation of what to do should he or I die. After the visit, I went outside where it was pouring rain in order to wash off the stench of my humiliating dream. And guess who decided to join me? The gay Light!

I rambled on about some bells and he got the impression that I had lost my marbles. Okay, so maybe I had. I mean, I was about to die! Screw sensibilities! Which is exactly why I gave him a foot massage. All the girls at Wammy's wanted me to rub them with my magical hands. But alas, as I've said before, I was too busy playing detective. Duty called. Closest I've ever been to a woman was watching Light watch porn. Yes, it's as lame as it sounds.

So, I get a phone call on my cell that ends up breaking up the little near-yaoi moment. Really, it was just my cell phone service provider calling to remind me that my bill was due that day, but of course that wouldn't matter, seeing as how I'd be dead in less than five minutes anyways.

And finally, that moment comes. I'll never forget (well, I'm dead now, how can I?) that look on Watari's face, so pained as he pressed the button to delete all my life's data. All of it. All 3000 some-odd cases worth of work. Gone. I made sure to leave behind a small window of what I'd discovered about the Kira case, but that was it. I was soon struck by a heart attack at the age of 25, me who had never smoked, always exercised, and despised fried foods like a fat kid despises vegetables. You know, my surveillance caught my death on tape. I watched it during a brief visit to earth. Watari was with me, like old times sake, but it was nice knowing that I wasn't there to solve any crimes. Mainly I was touching base with my successors (I really wanted all three, Mello, Matt and Near (though the little runt thinks I'm ugly!) to succeed me. That's just too big of a job to expect one person to handle.).

Well, there's my life's story. Or rather, the biggest part of it (for that Kira investigation truly was like half of my previous cases all rolled into one). Oh, speak of…er, an angel? There goes Watari. Ugh…he wants me to play bingo with him and a few other angels. I'm tired of bingo! I wanna play Yahtzee! But it's bingo night again at the mess hall tonight…and since I have all eternity here, I might as well play a round or two. Okay then, I am now finished with this note, L's Note, and am dropping it to the earth. The person that picks it up shall be gifted with my intelligence…and have my spirit hanging around them like a shinigami!

Please somebody, find it fast. I don't think I can take another bingo night. Please. Please?! Thank you and goodbye…for now.

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Wow, never meant for it to come out this long, but things like L's little side story about the after-life kinda took up a bit of space. Anyways, please review. Hope you enjoyed it!


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